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galatially · 2 years

Note

Pietro + wall sex??

i got just the thing! 😉😉

❝𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡❞

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 x 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 —it seemed to be inevitable that you’d consume me wholly and surely

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 3.8K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 —𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, one night stand, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids) cocky!pietro maximoff (trust me, he's a warning), honorifics (baby, honey, pretty girl)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i'm so sorry this was so late, nonnie 😫🫣

between work, moving, my emotions, and tons of impostor syndrome, this took me longer than i intended. this went through, like, five rewrites before i just bunkered down and wrote lol. i hope you like it!

i don't have a tag list but i do have a library where all of my works live @galatially-wrote so please check it out!

as always, dividers by @firefly-graphics!

You stood on the front porch of the Tau Nu Theta fraternity chewing the inside of your cheek.

You can do this. It’s just a party.

You leaned back on your heels, contemplating turning around and waiting for the next available shuttle to take you back to your apartment.

Your smart watch vibrated; are you here yet?

Green eyes — more hazel than green, let’s be honest — flashed in your mind’s eye, her dark brows bowed in concern. If you left now, she’d think something was up and you weren’t ready for that conversation just yet. You squared your shoulders and made your way into the house.

“Y/L/N! You made it!”

Arms pulled you into a hard chest and you let out a breathless chuckle. “Hey, Cap.”

The six foot four blond pulled back, a broad, hazy smile cutting along his lips. “Me and Wanda were startin’ to get worried.”

Of course they were.

In fairness, you’re absolutely horrible with checking your phone. Which is funny because you’re a computer science major and having an internet and social presence is key. The amount of notifications cluttering your phone screen is horrendous and the main argument between you and Wanda most days.

“I lost track of time. M’sorry.”

“You look amazing.” A teasing glint shone in his eyes. “Are you planning to cozy up to someone tonight?”

“‘Cozy up to’? You’re such an old man, Rogers.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.”

You rolled your eyes. “Where’s Wan?”

Steve shrugged. “Last I saw her, she was with Nat and Hawk near the living room but that was at least an hour or so ago.”

“Great,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. “Guess I’m babysitting tonight.”

He let out a hearty belly laugh. “Looks like.” He waved his arms out. “Eat, drink, be merry, and don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.” He gave you a quick peck to the cheek and disappeared into the crowd of students.

“Y/N!”

Arms locked around your middle and you had to brace yourself, tightening your calves to keep rooted to the ground. Still, you felt the stretch of a smile cutting across your lips. For her being six months older than you, Wanda Maximoff had a youthfulness to her that was infectious. Never without a bright smile, she was walking sunshine.

“Where have you been! I texted you an hour ago!”

You pointed to your perfectly styled coils. “My hair wasn’t going to style itself. That, and I had my phone on silent all day.”

“Of course you did,” she rolled her eyes, “why do you hate me?”

“The only dramatic one between me always has to be me, you know that.”

Wanda puffed her cheeks some. “You’re so mean to me.”

You lightly pinched her cheeks and gave her a winning smile. “Love you, too, babes.” She chuckled. “There she is! Being angry doesn’t suit you.”

“Promise me you’ll have fun tonight? Like, don’t stand in dark corners away from everyone and actually have fun?” She held up her pinky. “Promise?”

“Really? Pinky swear, Wan? That’s my thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m using it. So fucking promise me that you’re gonna let loose and have fucking fun, okay? As your best friend since third grade.”

You linked your pinky with hers, trying to hide your smile. “You worry too much, Mom.”

“The only person I want calling me Mom is Nat,” she said, smirking at the twisting of your face.

You had to hand it to them; Tau Nu Theta could throw a party.

The spirits were top shelf and the music was more than decent where you found yourself dancing with a group of friends from one of your elective courses. Erik Steven’s girlfriend — everyone called her ‘Shorty’ — and her friends were some of the first people you’d befriended during Freshman Week and you’re glad that you did.

“Get it, Y/N!” JoJo cheered.

You and Marcelle were dancing alongside JoJo and Shorty to the music, your laughter echoing each other’s.

“All right,” Marcelle said, her hands up, “I need something to drink. I’ll be back.”

“I’m comin’ too, Mari! Y’all want something?”

You and Shorty shook your heads and waved as they walked off.

“I’m glad you finally made it out tonight, girl,” she said, smiling. “I never get to see you outside of work and class.”

“I know,” you said, fanning yourself. “Jojo and Mari are a trip.”

“Yeah, you get used to them.”

Of all of your college friends, Erik’s girl was your closest. After bonding over having J-pop phases in middle school, you two were inseparable. She was sweet, caring, and had a shoe collection that you were jealous of.

“We should start hanging out more.”

“Yeah!” Her brown eyes brightened. “Our friend, Ororo, has a really nice apartment that’s not far from campus and she’s always got the best wine. We watch Insecure on Sundays. Well, rewatch it. It’s a fucking mess and we love it.”

“I’d love to hang out with y’all. And talk about how fine Y’lan Noel is.”

“I knew I liked you, Y/N.”

“Y/N?”

You turned, a surprised chuckle leaving your chest. “Kurt?”

He pulled you into his arms, a warm laugh rumbling in his chest. “If I knew that you were coming, I’d have picked you up.”

“I didn’t think I was, if I’m honest.” You turned to your friend. “This is Shorty, one of my very good friends. Shorty, this is Kurt.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Kurt said, shaking her hand.

“I’m gonna go find Mari and JoJo, but text me, okay?”

You nodded and gave her a hug before she walked towards the direction of her friends.

Kurt rubbed at the back of his neck. “Small world, huh?”

“Kind of,” you said, chuckling. “You cut your hair.”

Kurt ran a hand along his head, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, it was kind of spur of the moment. I was talking to Kitty — you remember Kitty, right? — and she made a comment about how long my hair has gotten. I don’t know, I just thought that maybe it was time to cut it.”

You reached out and ran your fingertips along his hairline, a smile softening on your lips. “I think it looks nice. Shows more of your face.”

Lights shades of pink colored the apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “Still the charmer, I see.”

“No, I’m not. You just don’t like when people compliment you, Wagner.”

“Sure, sure.” He playfully waved you off before his eyes softened. “How have you been?”

You shrugged. “Working, studying, rinse, repeat. You?”

“Me and Kitty are going to her family’s for a few days. Classes have been difficult but manageable. Still have your study sheets to thank for that.” He chuckled. “It’s good to see you, Y/N, truly. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Kurt. Maybe once the semester slows down, me, you, and Kitty can hang out sometime.”

“Definitely,” he said, smiling. “Don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

You agreed and pulled him into a hug. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and waved before he disappeared into the crowd of students.

Your mind flashed back to the last time you’d seen Kurt Wagner: a warmth behind a sad smile you knew you didn’t deserve on a snowy November evening in downtown Manhattan as you told him you’d wanted to be friends. The last kiss, only on the corner of his mouth, as you left him in the far corner booth.

But unlike most of your other exes, Kurt meant it. He’d meet you for coffee after a long day or a late dinner after work without expecting anything. Sometimes it made you worry you’d made a mistake ending your relationship. That you’d given up the warmest sun for something that may never look you over. The feelings dulled as your work and school loads kept you busier, relegating your conversations to the ever odd text or Snapchat streak.

You let out a sigh and made your way into the heart of the crowd. While you weren’t reserved by any means, you still weren’t used to partying at fraternity houses. Thankfully, the members of Tau Nu Theta — TNT, affectionately — were decent (save for the “douchey trio” of Paul Diskant, Bryce Langley, and Ransom Drysdale), probably because of your friendship with the sister of a legacy member.

A certain legacy member that wanted nothing to do with you.

After finally making it across the room, you found a drink table and grabbed a red solo cup of spiked sweet tea. You took a sip, leaning up against a free wall. Your eyes scanned the party for something, or rather someone. It was foolish, you knew that, but you couldn’t help to look for…

“Pietro, you’re so funny!”

Your gaze cut to the couch a few feet away from you. The woman — a willowy blonde — had her hands in his now pure white hair, a bright smile on her lips.

Pietro cupped his admirer’s face, his blue eyes drinking her in. His lips moved but the words were drowned out by the music. He probably cracked one of those corny jokes he gets from that dumb Instagram account he showed you sophomore year. Maybe he’s saying something dirty in Transian that made her giggle like that.

Your fingers tensed around the plastic cup. You wanted to go over to them, exist in their vacuum just to see if he’d react. Or you could confront him; who was he to pretend that you didn’t exist?

“See something you like?”

You jumped at the voice, a shrill squeak leaving you as he cackled. “Jesus Christ, Clint! What the fuck! You almost made me spill my drink!”

He outstretched his arms, his green and white letterman jacket flapping with his movements. “Bring it in!”

You stepped into his arms. The stench of weed clung to him and you chuckled against the side of his ear. “I see you’re winding down already.”

“And you’re staring at Maximoff.”

Warmth pooled in your cheeks. “Shut up, no, I’m not.”

“Yeah?” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “I can go get ‘im for you.”

You swatted at his arm. “Stop! I’m not looking at Pietro, I just happened to look where he was sitting for a second. I wasn’t even thinking of anything.”

Clint snorted. “I’m high, Y/L/N, not blind.”

“Exactly. You’re seeing shit.”

“Hawk!” Wanda’s cheek were flushed pink, her eyes drooped, her curls bigger than when she’d last seen her. “And Y/N! Love of my life!”

“Baby Maximoff!” Clint draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, a smirk on his lips. “I think the love of your life is plotting on your brother.”

“Y/N, how does Hawk know you like Pietro?”

Your eyes widened. “Wanda!”

Clint between the two of you. “Am I missin’ somethin’ here? You and Maximoff a thing?”

“Definitely not,” you let out a hard chuckle, “I’d rather chew broken glass.”

“Me, Pietro, and Y/N grew up together and she used to have the biggest crush on him.” You threw Wanda a hot glare. “What? You did! It was cute!”

“We were eleven, Wan. It was years ago.”

“Fine, fine,” she held her hands up, “I’m just saying that it would be, like, fate or something if you guys did end up together. You’d be my sister in real life!”

“Clint, could you take Wanda and get her some water? Before she tells the whole fraternity something else embarrassing about me?”

The blond nodded and half-carried, half-guided your best friend to one of the empty bedrooms. You were shaking, tears threatening against the corners of your eyes. You turned towards the direction of the kitchen and caught sight of Pietro, his blue eyes burning your skin.

“Y/L/N.”

You don’t take your gaze from the open refrigerator as you answer him. “Maximoff.”

He took hold of your forearm and slammed the refrigerator door shut. “You gonna keep ignoring me all night?”

Your features canted and turned to face him. “What are you talking about? I’m not ignoring you.”

Pietro snorted. “So I just imagined you walking past me without speaking? Or you pretending you didn’t see me a few minutes ago?”

“Not everything’s all about you, Maximoff, sorry to say,” you sniffed, shrugging. “Besides, you could’ve tried to talk to me yourself.”

“Or I could just stare at you longingly from across the room,” he said, a smirk ghosting at the corners of his mouth.

Your features flattened. “That’s not funny.”

“No one’s laughing.”

You made an annoyed noise. “Do you need something, Pietro? Don’t you have some sorority girls to bother or something?”

“Not at the moment, no.” He moved closer towards you, his arms caging you in against the fridge. His cologne filled your lungs, heady and spicy. “I’m all yours.”

You looked towards the kitchen entryway. “Someone could see us.”

“So? We’re just talking.” His eyes fell to your lips. “Unless you want to have a different conversation upstairs.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is sex all you think about?”

“I think about fucking you fairly often, Y/L/N.”

Your breath caught some. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Pietro.”

His thick brows pulled down in confusion. “Why not? We’re consenting adults. I’m single — ”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’m single enough,” he clarified. “And last I checked, you’re not attached to that douchebag anymore.”

“His name is Kurt and you don’t get to talk about him.” You frowned up at Pietro. “Who I’m with is none of your concern anymore.”

“I don’t like anyone that’s been with you that isn’t me.” His fingers played at the end of your skirt, a deep smirk dimpling his cheeks. “I bet you’re fucking drenched right now.”

“Pietro,” you warned, gripping his wrist. “Don’t.”

“What’s wrong, scared someone will catch me with my hands up your dress?” Said hands skimmed the skin of your thighs, ghosting along the curves of your hips. “You didn’t seem to mind it when we used to hang out sophomore year.”

You tightened your jaw. “Fuck you, Pietro.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, yes.”

He leaned in close, his breath fanning over your lips. His lashes sat full and dark atop the apples of his cheeks. His nose, aquiline and dusted with freckles varying in opacity, almost kissing the tip of yours.

Your body buzzed with excitement — he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to kiss you. That should’ve pissed you off how hungry you were for the feel of his lips against yours. Memories of moments past played in your mind: the first night you’d kissed, the first time he took you to bed. It was stupid to hold on to them, to wish that they’d never passed.

You let your eyes slowly shut, your chin lifted so slightly to close the distance.

Voices drifted towards the kitchen entryway and Pietro eased back, his brown eyes darker. “Meet me upstairs in five minutes.”

You blinked slowly. “What?”

“Meet me upstairs in five minutes,” he repeated teasingly, “we’ll finish this conversation once and for all.”

“Y/N!”

Wanda rushed up to you, throwing herself into your arms.

“Wanda? You okay?” You wrinkled your nose. “You smell like Hawk’s stash.”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to blurt all that stuff out about you and my brother.”

Of fucking course. Of all of the times to deal with a stoned Wanda, this was not it.

“You’re fine, Wan. I don’t even care anymore.”

“I know that’s a touchy thing and I didn’t mean anything. Really.”

You nodded, your eyes following Pietro as he ascends the stairs. “I’m good. I’m just going to find a room to clear my head.”

“I can have Steve or Clint take you home,” she offered, concern in her tone. “Or do you want me to take you? Let me just grab my stuff.”

“Wanda,” you took hold of her hands, “I promise I’m good. I just need a minute to myself.”

“But — ”

You shook your head. “If I still feel weird, I’ll make Hawk take me home, yeah?” Your watch vibrated and you prayed that your face didn’t betray you.

Glassy-eyed, Wanda gave you a once over. “If you’re sure.”

You held up your hand. “I promise. I’ll text you if I need anything.” You nodded towards Clint and Natasha. “Go have fun.”

She opened her mouth to say something but is called away by Natasha.

You waited until she was completely distracted by the redhead before ambling up the staircase. You glanced at the message on your watch: I’m the last door on the right at the very end of the hall. As you passed other students — almost stopping when you catch sight of a familiar brown-eyed freshman with wild, curly hair who was definitely too young to be drinking — you thought how insane this was.

As you got closer to the room, the music from the party below faded. A sudden spread of heat rippled up your spine and pooled in your belly. You barely got the door open before you were yanked inside, lips molded against yours. His large hands cupped the back of your neck and held you against his mouth. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to do that again?”

You shook your head, your ears ringing.

“That party…I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about you, Y/N.”

“Don’t give me that sentimental shit, Maximoff.”

“I’m not — ”

You palmed the outline of his bulge and gave him a hard stare. “You’re going to fuck me and then we’re never speaking of this again. No more snide comments about sophomore year or about my relationships. We don’t speak.” You worked your panties down your thighs and lifted your skirt higher, your eyes cutting to his. “Well? You going to fuck me or what, Maximoff?”

His hands pawed at your hips and pushed you against the wall, hooking one of your legs around his waist.

“Fuck me from behind,” you said, “I don’t want to look in your eyes.”

Something passed in his eyes, something pained, but he just nodded and spun you to face the wall. You heard the clinking of his belt being undone and blew out a breath. Just one night — you could do that, right? Finally get Pietro out of your system and come out as unscathed as you could.

The heavy head of his cock pushed into your needy cunt, a choked groan passing your lips.

Sharp hisses of “don’t stop” and “right fucking there” left your lips as his hips rocked you into the wooden walls. He was thrusting slow and deep on purpose and you tightened around him. “Pietro, please.”

“Please, what, pretty girl?” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “I’m just doing what you asked. ‘M fucking you.”

You let out a garbled sob.

“Oh, what’s wrong, Y/N? You don’t like how slow I’m going?” He wrapped a large hand around the front of your neck and pulled you into his chest. The angle made him hit the spongy part inside you and you mewled. “You sound so pretty, baby. Like a goddamn song.”

He picked up his pace, wet, sticky noises echoing throughout the room as you struggle to catch your breath. Like you were watching your life through another’s eyes, memories of the last time you and Pietro fucked played in your mind’s eye. How contrasted then was to now: he was sweeter then, gentler. His hands cupped your face as he kissed you soft and slow. He’d consumed you — swallowed every sigh and moan and whine you let out.

But this Pietro was a man unhinged. His hips snapped into your pelvis and his hands gripped you hard enough to leave bruises. Never mind that you’d asked for this or that he complied so easily.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Yeah? You gonna soak my cock, honey? Get it nice and wet for me?” His breath warmed the shell of your ear and you felt that familiar coil tighten in your belly. He leaned forward so that your forehead was resting against the wall, his hand leaving your neck to rub at your clit. You let out a wailing moan. “That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it. Cum for me just like that.”

You let out a wailing sound, a cross between a moan and a cry, and came with everything you had. You tightened around his cock and he let out a groan, spilling into you.

His chest fell and rose against your back, his lips ghosting against your sweat-slick neck. “Stay.”

“What?”

“Stay the night. With me.”

“We agreed that this was the last time, Pietro.” You slid your panties up your thighs and fixed the straps of your dress. “The next time we see each other, we’re going to be acquaintances. Familiar strangers, even. We’ve never touched, never been alone together.”

“You’re fucking serious.” An incredulous snort left his lips. “Why are you so determined to ruin something good before it even starts?”

“Is this?” You turned to face him. “Something good?”

He furrowed his dark brows. “It could be.”

“Which parts? Getting close to me just to fuck me? Pretending to want to be with me?” You let out a scoff. “Was I just something to distract you? Were you bored and that’s why you fucked me?”

“No, Y/N. I — ”

“You knew that I liked you, didn’t you?” Pietro paused. “You knew. And, what, you thought it was cute or, or pathetic, right? That I was still that dorky girl next door who was best friends with your sister.”

“That’s not true.”

“But you’ve done it before, right? Spun some pretty lies to some poor girl in Grady’s and, then what? You just pass by her on campus like she never existed?”

“You’re not being fair, Y/N.”

You gave his chest a small shove. “It’s not about you, Maximoff. It’s about me. I’m allowed to protect myself.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I would never.” He said it so vehemently, with such sureness, you couldn’t help but soften your features some.

“You don’t think you already have?” Your voice broke. “I spent a fucking year trying to get over you. I broke Kurt’s heart, Pietro, and for what?”

“Y/N…”

You shook your head and moved towards the door. “We’re done here, Pietro. For good.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — pietro is one of my favorite people to write, i swear. of course, i had to be angsty and ramble but i'm glad that i managed to write something after such a long time

#ask me anything ♡♡♡#message received 💌#order received 📦#hey nonnie 👋🏽#touch #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x black!reader #frat boy!pietro maximoff #best friend's brother!pietro maximoff #college!black!reader #college au #best friend's brother!pietro maximoff x black!reader

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cherrysoojins · 9 months

Text

८ bewitched , ateez laufey songs .

✉️. one of eight, choi jongho. valentine.

jongho sucked at expressing his emotions and refused to allow himself to fall in love because of that. but on valentine’s day with you, that all changes

&ㅤㅤ 📦 ♡ warnings. sfw, fluff, suited for all ages, not proofread ( might have spelling errors ), let me know if any other warnings that should be added !

choi jongho was not the best at expressing himself. he was even worse at getting his feelings in order and saying them out loud.

for years, choi jongho has rejected affection. not because he didn’t want to experience the meaning of love and such, but because he genuinely sucked at showing his emotions and was scared that would prevent him from getting involved with anyone romantically. in his mind it’s just like, who would want a boyfriend who can’t properly say “i love you” or hug and kiss you spontaneously like other normal boyfriends do?

so instead of him getting rejected by others for his lack of expression, he chose to reject himself of receiving it and he had been simply content with the choice. neither happy nor upset at the choice, just meh– like he didn’t really care because he didn’t. he was perfectly content being single, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to experience something.

and with his contentedness in his life, it threw him in for a loop when the pretty barista near his campus started taking an interest in him– which was you. consistently writing his name wrong on the cups of coffees he orders just to see a small smile take over his face when he sees the flirty message you write on it, taking his order and then leaning over the counter in an overly flirty manner to talk to him while another coworker makes his coffee via your demand because you wanted to have a small conversation with him before another customer came in and made him move away from you.

when you started hitting on jongho, he started to realize how uncontent he was starting to become with being single. not just that, he started hating the thought that he wasn’t making a move on you, the pretty girl who makes all the moves because jongho simply just can’t do that for god knows what reason.

and when valentines day came, he knew he was utterly screwed. unable to bring himself to buy you flowers or chocolates to give you when he went to go visit the coffee shop you work at, he was so mad at himself. why was being so affectionate so hard for him? why can’t he display his emotions like a normal person? why did it feel like everything was so against him in some ways?

“hi,” your sweet voice rang out the second he entered the coffee shop with a little ding from the bell announcing his entrance. jongho looked up from his phone, a small smile etching onto his face that was hardly noticeable.

“hey.” he responded casually, looking around the surprisingly empty cafe as jongho approached the counter that you leaned on with a cheeky smile on your cheeks as you looked at him.

“happy valentines day.” you told him, lifting a hand up to tap his order onto the register.

jongho suddenly felt mad at himself again. the second he saw you when he walked into the coffee shop, all his worries lifted and it seemed as though a weight was taken off his shoulders. but now you, unintentionally, reminded him how upset he was about himself on this specific day, all the bad thoughts flooding in again about how he was such an emotionless bastard and how he hated himself just a little bit for not being how he wants to be.

and somehow, like always, you caught up on it. even if jongho looked as stoic as he always did, you could read him like and open book, just like you could to everyone else. it slowly became something he admired about you. it was one of the things he fell in love with.

“your coffee is on the house. that’s my first gift,” you said, moving to the side as he broke from his thoughts and stared at you, eyes widening.

“no, i can pay. i don’t want you to get in trouble–”

“i’ll be fine.” shutting him down, you squatted behind the counter, grabbing a big red bag that had ‘valentine’ on it, pushing it towards him on the counter with a big smile on your lips, a light blush taking over your cheeks before you turned to start working on his coffee.

jongho looked at the bag, his body slightly frozen in shock.

this was the first time he ever got a valentine’s day gift.

“what–” he started.

“that’s my second gift to you.” you cut him off once again, back facing him as you busied yourself with making his usual coffee, a smile stitched onto your face as excitement blossomed through your body, a warm feeling taking over your heart. “open it.”

jongho stood silent for a moment longer, gulping before he lifted his hands to open the bag slightly. chocolates and a bouquet of flowers that the bag was big enough to hide laid inside, his eyes shooting wide open once again.

you turned around, his coffee in hand as you looked at him, putting the coffee on the counter beside the bag he was still staring into.

“do you like it?” you asked him, your hands grabbing a sharpie in a little dainty cup near the cash register, lifting his coffee up to start scribbling on it. instead of a random name, you wrote his actual name in the correct way this time, a little heart next to it. instead of a random little flirty message, you wrote your number this time.

when you put the cup back down next to him, he finally looked up at you. he looked sad, the first emotion that anyone would be able to see from a mile away. it wasn’t like his usual hidden expressions, it was as clear as day how he was feeling.

“i… didn’t get you anything…” he said lowly, looking back down at the bag and clenching the sides in his grasp, your gift only fuelling the disappointment he felt within himself.

“you don’t need to.” you immediately responded to him, causing him to shoot his head to look at you again.

“i don’t need a gift from you, jongho.” you told him, your head tilting to the side with that sweet smile on your face once again. the same smile that kept his heart fluttering in his chest when he either saw it or imagined it.

you raised the cup of coffee up, pointing your finger at your number written on it.

“all i need you to do is text this number, okay?” the meaning behind your words were simple. you didn’t need a gift from him or anything. he didn’t need to show you affection, or hug and kiss you spontaneously whenever he saw you. you didn’t need that from him.

being with him despite his lack of expression, lack of affection and conversation skills, being with him like this in the coffee shop or even through text, that’s all you need. just him, being him.

choi jongho was not the best at expressing himself. he stopped himself from falling in love or receiving it because he figured nobody would want him if he was like that.

but he blinked, and suddenly he had a valentine.

full bewitched series masterlist !

send and ask or a pm to be added to the bewitched tag list !

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ariel26c · 12 days

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I Know I've WON the Lottery... I Feel it... But I need THAT MONEY NOW... How can I Speed this up, do I just Remain Confident??

If you know for a fact that you’ve won the lottery. You already have the money. I know the 3D is showing the opposite but that doesn’t mean that you don’t have it. Live in imagination. If you can imagine yourself winning the lottery and having the money then it is yours RIGHT NOW.

IT IS yours now babe.

Manifestation requires Persistence

If you feel like you are waiting for your manifestation then you’re not really living in the end.

Why would you be waiting for something if you are saying you already have it?

It’s like ordering a package 📦 and receiving the package. Then 5 minutes later asking “where is my package?”

As for “speeding up” your manifestations you need to do what feels right. I don’t want to limit you into thinking you have to do something specific to speed things up.

Whatever it is that you think will speed things up is your answer. If you feel like remaining confident speeds thing up then do that.

Reminder: when you do a method or just say affirmations it’s not to obtain your manifestation it’s to remind yourself that already have it.

#affirmations #desired reality #manifestation #law of the universe #law of assumption #manifesting #self concept

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crossguildmerch · 16 days

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Shipping has begun!!

You will receive an email with a tracking number when your order has been sent ⚔️ We are expecting all orders to be sent within a month 📦

We are excited for everyone to receive the Cross Guild goodies, thank you for your patience!!

#cross guild merch collab

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thieveszine · 1 month

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📦 Shipping Updates - March 15, 2024

🦅 USA || All Yuzu Bundle orders were shipped on Monday (March 11). Buyers should have received an email from B!g Cartel containing their tracking number, plus an additional email from us confirming the order was sent.

🌍 International || Shipping is expected to start this month and continue through April. Like the USA shipping, (physical) zine only and Lemon Bundles will be sent out first, followed by Yuzu once the scrunchies (currently en route) are received.

🦅 USA, 🌍 International || Enamel pins are currently in production. If no major changes are needed, we expect them to arrive to our USA shipper by early April, and to our International shipper by late April or early May.

Once we receive the pins, we'll begin shipping Citron & Pomelo orders. Due to the high number of Citron orders, we plan to send them in batches once or twice a week depending on our shippers' work schedules.

Thank you again for your patience 🥺💕

#thieves.announcement

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astrofishiiarts · 17 hours

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⭐️⭐️ With a new look!

📦 Any orders of $35+ will receive free shipping (US customers only!)

Click here to buy!

#cartoon #acrylic charms #acrylic keychain #2000s #eric cartman #kenny mccormick #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #sp art #sp kyle #sp fanart #style sp #south park merch #south park art #south park #sp kenny #etsyseller #etsystore #kyle brovlofski

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sjsmith56 · 7 months

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First Date

Summary: A misdirected mail mishap results in a young woman, recently moved to New York City meeting the Avenger, Bucky Barnes. With Sam’s help Bucky asks her out then spends the week trying to come up with the perfect first date.

Length: 5K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, named OFC (Holly), unnamed OFC (sister).

Warnings: Both sisters are mostly not physically described, they’re single, slightly plus sized, nervous Bucky, some slightly impure thoughts from OFC, otherwise this is a pretty fluffy piece.

Author notes: Alternating first person POV between OFC and Bucky. Right now it’s a one shot but it could become more if I get enough feedback. Takes place in a slightly AU MCU, after the events of Endgame and FATWS (one where Bucky and Sam tackled the Flag Smashers themselves as the other Avengers were dealing with other things). There is a tease for a double date with Steve Rogers and Holly’s sister (Coney Island?) so if you would like to see another instalment please comment.

Second date Third date

📦

Holly

I stepped out of the elevator and stopped as soon as I saw the box leaning on my door. Another package. Great. This made four packages delivered to my address instead of the other address which was printed on the shipping label. Another package I had to physically take to the post office to deliver to the correct address. Another hour out of my day standing in line then having to explain that James Barnes didn’t live at my address, was unknown to me, and that he had an unlisted phone number so I couldn’t phone him to pick up his mail. Looking at my watch I sighed. It was already too late to take the package in if I was going to make it to my evening dance class. That meant I would have to take the package to work with me tomorrow then drop it off on my way home.

“Why don’t you just keep it?” my sister suggested when I mentioned it to her at the dance studio. “Obviously the guy keeps putting something wrong on the shipping information whenever he orders whatever he’s buying.”

“You know I can’t do that,” I replied as I started in first position. “If it was my package being misdirected, I would hope that whoever received it would be honest enough to return it. They don’t come back so they obviously make it to him eventually.”

“Or he cancels his order,” said my sister as she mimicked my actions.

“Ladies, less talk, more focus,” said Madame Elise, the ballet mistress.

We both made a face at her when she turned, then both tried to stifle our giggles after. For being in our early thirties we both had our juvenile moments. After class we dried off the perspiration before pulling our sweats on. We never showered at the studio as the facilities bordered on disgusting plus there was a core group of women there with perfect dancer bodies that made us feel inadequate. I’m not into body shaming and although they never said anything out loud it wasn’t hard to see their opinions about our figures in their eyes. Neither of us needed that kind of judgement especially when we were in between boyfriends. On our way out we stopped and picked up an iced cappuccino at the coffee shop then walked to the subway. Finishing our drinks just before the train arrived, we boarded.

When it came to my sister’s stop, she stood up, did a little pirouette and performed a jeté out the door onto the platform. Grinning at her I waved then settled back into the seat ready to get off at my stop, the next one. Joining the others who were also getting off we walked up the stairs towards the exit. I had to stop at the bodega as I was out of milk so by the time I was walking up the steps of the apartment building, it was already dark. Pressing the button for the elevator I waited and waited but it didn’t come, and I groaned as I really didn’t want to walk up five flights of stairs. It had been working well when I left. One of my neighbours came down the stairs with their garbage bag for the dumpster out back.

“It was working earlier,” I stated, gesturing to the elevator.

“Yeah, it was but someone pressed all the buttons as a joke, and it got stuck on four,” he said. “It’s sitting there with an open door. The super called a repairman, but they won’t be in until tomorrow.” He headed towards the door to the alley. “You have someone waiting for you at your door. A big guy. I think he used to live there before you. Something about his mail still being redirected to your address.”

With a sigh I began the long climb up to the fifth floor. There was a man leaning against the wall outside my door. He must have heard me coming up the stairs as he looked in my direction as I exited the stairwell. Even from that distance I was aware of his size, tall and broad shouldered. His dark hair, just long enough to kiss the collar of his jacket, framed a very handsome face highlighted by a pair of incredible blue eyes.

“Hi,” he said casually, with a slight wave of his hand, before he put his phone back in his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry to bother you but the post office screwed up the redirection of my old mail, most of it anyways. They’ve been sending things with my new address on the shipping label back to here.”

“That explains it I guess.” I smiled at him. “Mr. Barnes, is it? I tried to find a way to call but there was no listing for your name. I would have dropped the packages off, but the other address is so far away, and I don’t have a car.”

“Call me Bucky.” His eyes lit up as he smiled. “Not a problem. I’ll leave you my number so if any more mail shows up here, I can pick it up at your convenience.”

Between the time I unlocked my door, and I went inside to retrieve his package I realized who he was. He was still waiting in the hallway, which struck me as odd, until I recalled that I hadn’t invited him in. Looking towards the open door I could see him waiting there patiently.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners?” I stammered. “Would you like to come in?”

“Sure,” he answered, stepping just inside, looking a little uncomfortable. “I didn’t want to presume anything.”

“Did you get the other packages that I returned?” I asked, holding the most recent package in my hands. “I would have brought them over but it’s quite the train ride from here to Midtown.”

“Yes, they did arrive, not that it fixed things.” His smile was warm. “I wouldn’t have expected you to do the Post Office’s job.” He looked a little more at the small flat. “You fixed it up nice here, much nicer than I had it.”

“You lived here for how long?” I asked. “I’ve been here two months.”

“Almost a year,” he replied. “After I got some legal matters cleared up, I had to live in the New York area. This was affordable and it wasn’t far from where I grew up.”

There was an awkward silence, so I stepped forward at the same time he did, intending to give him his package. In the light of my apartment, he was even more handsome, and I tried desperately to think of something to say to him, but my mind went blank, and I smiled politely instead. He took the package and nodded, then turned around, walking out.

“Wait, your phone number!” I called, running to the doorway.

He was at the top of the stairs and sheepishly came back. I unlocked my phone and offered it to him, to enter his information in. Looking at it I sent him a text, then watched as he took his phone out, seeing my name, Holly, which in my blank state of mind had forgotten to give him earlier.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said, as my attention was focused on those beautiful eyes. “I won’t forget who it belongs to.”

“Thank you, it’s been nice meeting you,” I replied.

He headed back down the stairs, and I closed the door, setting the deadbolt in place. I had just met an Avenger. 🔹

Bucky

Sam was still sitting in the driver’s seat, checking his phone when I stepped out of Holly’s building and up to the truck.

“That took you long enough,” he said.

“She wasn’t home, and I wasn’t leaving without my package,” I replied. “You must have seen her coming in. Tall, dark haired, wearing sweats.”

He shrugged. “Pretty?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I got so tongue tied. Said I would leave her my phone number then I almost left without giving it to her.”

“You get her number? Did you ask her out?”

“What, already?” I sighed again. “That’s a bit quick, isn’t it?”

“What would old Bucky have done?” he asked. “Would he have asked her out right away?”

“Yeah, but I’m not him anymore.”

“Give me your phone.”

Sam held his hand out. With a third sigh I handed it to him. He tapped out a message and sent it then handed my phone back so I could read what he sent.

Me: Are you free Friday night? I understand if you have other plans. Just thought we could meet for drinks, or I could pick you up. You don’t have to feel obligated or anything.

I couldn’t believe he did that, and I almost started texting to take it back when I got a reply.

Her: I am free on Friday night. We could meet somewhere, or you could pick me up. I’m good either way. Nothing too fancy. I’m not into that.

Staring at my phone screen I tried to think of what to say, not wanting to sound desperate or needy.

Me: Okay! I’ll pick you up at 7:30. You okay with riding a motorcycle?

Her: Sure, that means jeans and a jacket, right? I don’t have a helmet.

Me: I have a spare. Looking forward to it. See you then.

I had a date, an actual date, with a nice-looking girl … woman. Bad habit. I showed Sam and he grinned.

“See, old Bucky is still there. Where are you going?”

I looked at him and swallowed. Old Bucky would have taken a girl out in style, dinner, then dancing, then whatever came from that. But I had already told her that I was picking her up by motorcycle, which meant casual, which meant something outdoors, or a movie, or sightseeing. He started the truck up to drive back to Avengers Tower, making suggestions along the way.

“Empire State Building.”

“Heights, you know how I am about heights,” I answered.

He nodded. “Yankees are in town. You could take her to a ball game.”

I glared at him. Never, ever would I go see the Yankees play. Mets, maybe, but I had hated the Yankees since I was a boy, and I wasn’t about to change that. Sam didn’t say anything more until we got back to the Tower and up to the common room area where the others were gathered, watching Jeopardy. I held up my package, which brought some half-hearted cheers.

“Someone has a date Friday night,” announced Sam. “He’s picking her up on his motorcycle at 7:30 and needs some suggestions.”

“Empire State Building,” said Tony.

“He doesn’t like heights,” stated Steve. “Ball game?”

“Only the Yankees are in town,” replied Sam. “He nearly bit my head off when I suggested it.”

Steve grinned and shook his head, picturing that. He knew how I felt about the Yankees because he felt the same.

“The museum,” he countered. “There’s a new art exhibit.”

I shook my head. “That’s your thing, not mine. It’s okay. I’ll come up with something before Friday.”

Using my phone, I looked up all sorts of things to do in New York but kept finding something wrong with them. Either they were too formal, which I really didn’t want, or they were too noisy and crowded, which I really didn’t need. Some of them appealed to me but started and ended early, meaning the date could be over by 9 pm which didn’t appeal to the old Bucky in me. By Friday morning I was ready to cancel the date then Tony Stark turned to me in the elevator.

“I sent you an email,” he said. “Two suggestions. Take them or leave them. But the first part might be interesting for both of you and the second might be a bit nostalgic for you. The best part is that they’re not far apart and you might be able to do both, if it’s going well.” The elevator doors opened on the lab floor, and he stopped in the elevator doorway, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “I hope you have a good time no matter what you end up doing. You deserve that much.”

When I read the email, I smiled. This might not be so bad. 🔹

Holly

After Bucky left, I called my sister to tell her I had a date with the Avenger, Bucky Barnes, and that he was the one whose packages were being redirected back to his old address, now my apartment. She said something about me having all the luck as she thought Steve Rogers was absolutely dreamy. I didn’t rub it in. The next day she sent me a text.

Her: Empire State Building. He’s taking you to the top, to view all of New York. It’s right out of Sleepless in Seattle.

Me: I’ve read he’s not big on heights, due to surviving that big fall in World War II.

A few hours later she sent another text.

Her: Yankees ball game. They’re hosting the Red Sox.

The answer to that was obvious to me.

Me: He’s a Brooklyn Dodgers fan. No self-respecting Dodgers fan would ever cheer for the Yankees.

On Thursday, she texted again.

Her: Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art.

Me: 🫤

That meant I wasn’t into it. On Friday morning, after several days of sending more suggestions she texted another.

Her: Harbour cruise.

That actually wasn’t a bad idea. Wearing jeans and a jacket would keep me warm out on the water. A harbour cruise would start and end at the same pier and a motorcycle would be easier to park in the crowded area. I looked up the cruises then texted my sister back. They all started at 7:00 and he was picking me up at 7:30 so it couldn’t be a cruise. Then Bucky sent me a text.

Him: We’re still on for tonight, right? We’re going to be taking a walking tour in Greenwich Village so wear good shoes. Then we can have a late dinner at a 24-hour diner near the East Village.

Me: Absolutely. That sounds like fun. Hopefully, it doesn’t rain.

Why did I say that about the rain? Now I had introduced the thought that rain could potentially ruin our date. He sent me a reply.

Him: No rain in the forecast. I’ll see you at 7:30.

I smiled. Obviously, he had already thought of the possibility. When I texted my sister with the itinerary, she sent me a thumbs up emoji. It was looking to be a fun date, with no pressure. At 7:25 there was a knock on my door. When I looked through the peephole, I saw that it was Bucky, and opened the door.

“Hi,” I said. “Come on in.”

He brought his hand out from behind his back, producing a bouquet of mixed flowers. “These are for you.” He seemed a little embarrassed. “I always brought flowers on the first date back in the day.”

I was touched as it was a very sweet gesture. “Thank you, I’ll just put them in some water. Make yourself comfortable.”

He wiped his feet on the doormat and stepped in further, sitting down on the sofa. As he stretched his long legs out, I found a vase and filled it with water. Smiling politely, he watched me then stood up and came over to the small kitchen island.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

“I’m nervous,” he admitted. “I had a date a while ago and messed it up when I had a bit of an anxiety attack partway through. She wouldn’t talk to me after that. Can’t say I blame her.” He breathed out noticeably.

“You feeling nervous now?”

“A little.” He fixed those gorgeous eyes on me. “I’m 106 years old, haven’t really dated since the 1940s and some days I feel so old and out of place. I used to be quite the ladies' man before the war.” He breathed out again. “My friend Sam sent the original text as I didn’t think a nice-looking girl like you would go out with me.”

“I haven’t had a date in a few months,” I told him. “Before then I had a boyfriend who told me that I would be prettier if I lost 20 pounds or so. He wasn’t my boyfriend after that. I know I’m not perfect, but I like who I am. Do you want to go out with me still?” He nodded, then smiled and said yes. “Then we’ll go out. I think you’re a gentleman first, and I liked that you brought me flowers, and I liked hearing you call me a nice-looking girl.”

When I brought my jacket out, he helped me on with it, then waited patiently as I locked the door. Down at the sidewalk was his motorcycle, one of those classic ones that usually cost an arm and a leg. He unlocked the security compartment, bringing out a helmet for me. Making sure it fit properly he put his on, zipped up his leather jacket, and straddled the seat, gesturing for me to get on behind him.

“Hold on tight,” he said. “If it’s too much for you, pat my front two times and I’ll pull over. I’m a safe driver and I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

Placing my purse crossways over my body I got on behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle. Even through his jacket I could feel how firm his abdomen was. For a brief moment I pictured him shirtless (yes, it was nice) and giggled then put the thought out of my head as I leaned against his back. The rumble of the motorcycle was loud, even inside my helmet but as soon as he put it into gear it lessened slightly. The motorcycle proved to be the perfect vehicle as he could easily get out of any traffic snarl quickly and just over 20 minutes later, we arrived at Washington Square Park. After locking our helmets back inside the security compartment, he held his right hand out to me and guided me to where a small group of people were waiting. We checked in and waited for the rest of the people to arrive.

🔹

Bucky

Even though I was recognized by the tour guide I kept my attention on Holly, making sure that she didn’t feel ignored. She took my hand again as we waited for the rest of the people. When they arrived, our tour began with a history of Washington Square Park, including the fact that it was a native burial ground as well as a cemetery used to bury the dead of the American Revolution. Apparently, they still occasionally found human remains whenever an excavation had to be done on repairing utilities. We also went to what was called the Pirate’s Den, connected to a notorious woman, named Vivian Gordon, murdered in late February 1931.

“I was 12, almost 13 years old,” I blurted out. “I think I remember that. Wasn’t the mayor of New York implicated in that murder?”

The tour guide looked at me, smiling. “I can safely say that this is the first time I’ve had a participant who was around for one of the older historical events in this tour.”

It got everyone laughing and Holly squeezed my hand, smiling at me. From there we were shown where Mark Twain lived, and where his ghost apparently made appearances. The tour guide had a device that supposedly could show the presence of a ghost electronically, but it didn’t show anything there, although it did on other places that we stopped at, specifically the Brown Building, where the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire occurred, killing over 140 women. After an hour of walking and stopping at various landmarks the tour ended back at Washington Square Park. I slipped the tour guide an extra $20 and mentally thanked Tony Stark for suggesting the activity. It had been interesting, and I think Holly liked it as well. She looked over my arm as I checked the address of the diner.

“It’s close enough to walk, about twenty minutes,” I said. “Would you mind if we left the motorcycle here, so I don’t have to find another parking spot?”

“Not at all,” she responded, taking my hand again.

Making sure I was walking between Holly and the street we strolled along without speaking, not that we needed to fill the silence with anything. Instead, we just enjoyed each other's presence. We did have to dodge a guy on a skateboard that zipped towards us, but Holly just casually turned towards me as he passed.

“Sorry,” she said, as her other hand reached for my chest, and I put my other arm around her. “He came out of nowhere.”

“It was worth it,” I said, without thinking.

It was something old Bucky would say. Her face lit up as she smiled at my reply. Patting my chest with her hand, she looked up in a way that brought back memories of previous dates. I almost kissed her then she dropped her hand and returned to walking beside me, her hand firmly in mine. When we arrived at the diner Holly’s face seemed pleased.

“I didn’t know about this place!”

“Tony Stark suggested it,” I replied, holding the door open for her.

It was bright inside, considered retro for the 21st century with its checkerboard flooring, booths with padded seats, and the older lighting fixtures. In the 1940s it would have been seen as futuristic with its many curved lines in the finishings. We were seated in a booth where our knees touched. I was about to ask to be moved but she just smiled and said it didn’t bother her. It reminded me of when Sam and I first started working together during the Flag Smashers, and we had the impromptu therapy session inside the Baltimore police station. Before I could tell Holly about it, the waitress arrived to take our drink orders. Not wanting to give her the wrong impression I ordered a coffee. She ordered a chocolate milkshake and asked for a starter of mozzarella sticks. Quietly, we looked at the menu, although I tried to look at her some more. When our drinks arrived Holly ordered a chicken wrap and salad. I ordered the meatloaf special, and a bacon cheddar burger with fries on the side. Before I could explain she looked at me with some amusement.

“So, it’s true?” she asked, her eyes bright. “Super soldiers have to eat a lot of food to keep their energy up. I envy you. I wish I could eat like that.”

“It’s true but it’s not always enjoyable,” I replied. “After really heavy missions that take a lot out of us, I barely have enough energy to eat at all, but I have to force myself. Bruce … Bruce Banner, invented a supplement for me and Steve to boost our calorie intake and give us instant energy, but it’s not the best tasting and the texture is kind of awful.”

“I guess that would be a downside,” she offered. “My sister has a crush on him, on Steve.” She clarified. “She’s my best friend and we would have lived together but she got here a year before I did, found a place to share and co-signed the lease. When I decided to move here, I had to find my own place because she was locked into the lease with her roommate. We’re only one stop away from each other and we see each other a lot.”

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

I was asking because I knew Holly would appeal to Steve and if her sister was like her, perhaps she would be good to double date with. That would be something, a double date with Steve that might actually work in his favour as he was still as hopeless now with the ladies as he was in the 1940s.

“She’s between boyfriends right now.” A smile crossed Holly’s face that lit her up from inside. “You thinking of fixing her up with Steve Rogers?”

I shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I tried. Even though he is more handsome now he’s still the same shy guy he was when we were younger. Takes him weeks just to get up the courage to say hi to a girl.”

She was leaning towards me with her chin resting on her hand. “I like how you call me a girl. It’s supposed to be a put down in these times, but I guess to someone of your age, someone my age is a girl. I’m not offended by it, although I guess some are.”

Just like that Holly put me even more at ease. Our mozzarella sticks arrived, and she took the first one dipping it into the sauce. Tentatively I bit into one, then smiled as the cheese stretched out from my mouth to the stick. Holly giggled a little as we grappled with the strings of cheese. Our main food arrived just as we finished the last of the appetizer. Holly stole some of my fries which didn’t bother me at all. For dessert I had apple pie à la mode, while she had chocolate cake.

Tony had good instincts referring me to this place. It was informal enough that neither one of us tried to impress the other. We talked more about all sorts of things, my love of books, her love of dancing, our shared interest in science and technology. After I paid the bill, I opened the door to the outside and we stepped out into the night, which had cooled down a little since our tour. We headed back towards the park where my motorcycle was parked. As we got closer, we could hear the sounds of music and applause.

“Street performers!” exclaimed Holly. “Please, can we watch?”

How could I say no?

🔹

Holly

Watching the street performers with Bucky was something else. He had never seen buskers like this before. Jugglers with fire sticks, catchy music and clever repartee were just the beginning. There were some aerial gymnasts doing all sorts of tricks that displayed their acrobatic abilities. A pair of guys with tap shoes danced to hip hop in ways that successfully melded the two forms of entertainment. Another guy with a bmx bicycle did all sorts of twists, turns and jumps including some on an obviously home-made ramp that defied gravity. It was an explosion of sight, sound, and colour that intrigued him, making him so much fun to be with, not to mention even more gorgeous. I gave some money to the hats that were passed around, explaining this was probably how many of the buskers made a living. He added some of his own. When we finally pulled away and began the walk to his motorcycle Bucky couldn’t stop talking about how entertaining it all was.

“Does this happen all the time here?” he asked. “Tony never said anything about it but if it does, then I owe him. That was amazing, just amazing.”

We were holding hands and he stopped at the motorcycle, pulling me closer. It was like we were in a movie as he looked so softly at me, making me feel all sorts of things, both good and kind of scary because I had never been this close to someone like him. Most of my dates were of the nerdy kind, nice but slightly socially inept. This was Bucky Barnes, handsome, notorious, and an absolute dreamboat. When our lips met, I swear there was music. Of course, we were only a block away from the park where the entertainment was still going on, but the sounds from there just seemed to add to the romance in our little moment of kissing. He could really kiss … I guess that’s something a guy doesn’t forget, no matter what kind of hell he’s been through.

“I should have asked first,” he murmured when we stopped. “I suppose I got caught up in the moment.”

“Why don’t you ask then?” I replied, looking up at him.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

The second kiss was even better as it was accompanied by his arms wrapping themselves around me and mine wrapping themselves around him, bringing thoughts of him shirtless and more, to my mind again. This kiss also lasted a lot longer before we stopped, and he looked at me.

“I should get you home,” he said, not sounding completely convinced by his own words.

We got back onto the motorcycle, pulling up in front of my building a short time later. After dismounting I took my helmet off then handed it to him.

“I had a really good time,” I said. “Would you like to come up?”

Even in the dim light I could tell he was blushing. “If this was the 1940s, I would have said yes, but I’m not that Bucky anymore. I kind of played the field then and I want something more than that now.”

He really was something else and I looked at him with my heart racing a little. “So, you want a second date?”

“Yes, do you?” I replied yes and we kissed again, a really nice and sweet kiss. “Then I’ll call you soon. I promise.”

I went inside the door of the building and up the now working elevator. When I got inside the small flat, I looked out the window and smiled to see that Bucky was still waiting beside his motorcycle, apparently watching for me to appear. He waved to me, then put his helmet on and started up the motorcycle before pulling away. It might have been just a first date, but it was one of the best dates I had ever been on, and I hope Bucky felt the same.

If you read this one shot and enjoyed it please like, comment and reblog.

#buckybarnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #sam wilson #steve rogers #tony stark #first date #dating in New York #nervous bucky #what is there to do in nyc on a Friday night?

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iyagato · 9 months

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GREETINGS 💙 fans 😇 and subjects 🧪 and SIMPS 😳 this 🥰 is your 🫵 favorite ⭐ doctor 👨‍⚕️ speaking 🗣️ and I 😈 am here 💁‍♂️ to let you 🫵 know 🧠 that I 🫣 have finally 🎉 received the hard copies 😳 of the prints 🖼️ I ordered 📦 to sign ✍️ for you 😍 my favorite ❤️ future test subjects 👨‍🔬 if you 🫵 would like 🥺 a signed 🖋️ 8x10 📏 or even perhaps 😳 a FOR SIMPS only 😈 11x17 📏 because you 🫵 just can't 🙄 get enough 😏 head over 🏃 to my streamily 🌐 store 🏬 at streamily ✍️ dot 💬 com slash mickwingert ☺️ I'll be 🫣 doing a live ⏱️ signing 🖋️ event on november 19th 🗓️ saturday ☀️ when I'll SIGN ✍️ SIGN ✍️ SIGN ✍️ just for you 🥰 see you online 👋

#uhm new copypasta just dropped #i made this b4 last year but couldnt find it so i was told to redo it #THIS IS SO SILLY I LOVE MICK WINGERT SM #i love this video very much #this is for my dottore obsessed friend ❤️#genshin impact #dottore #il dottore #shitpost

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kithtaehyung · 1 year

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AND WE ARE LIVE (AGAIN!) AT studioryen.com !!

🗯️ soft opening for the second time for orders up until april 23rd, 10pm est 🗯️

‼️ items available: shirts, pins, stickers, and keychain✌️

😗 use code DDAY for 5% off orders over $75, and free domestic shipping for all orders over $75 📦

👉 also.. everyone that orders during the second soft launch will receive a special promo code for next time (shop will officially be live in may!) 🥳

#YAAAAY #it’s here!!#studioryen #bts #agust d #merch #*ryengfxtalk #if y’all wanna boost or share with ur friends pls feel free🥳

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squinoazine · 7 months

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Shipping has officially begun! 🤍📦

Orders will be sent out in batches throughout the week and ALL packages will be shipped out by October 1st! You’ll receive a tracking number in your email. 💌

Digital bundles will be sent out once all physical orders have been shipped! ✨

Thank you for your patience, Squinoa lovers! We’re all so excited for you to receive your goodies. 🤍

#squall leonhart #rinoa heartilly #squall x rinoa #squinoa #ff8 #final fantasy 8 #final fantasy viii #ffviii #ff8 zine #squinoa zine

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galatially · 2 years

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hi! how are you? hope you’re good and taking care of yourself! if you’re too busy ignore this, i don’t want to be a bother!

could you write something about sitting on wally’s lap? i had other idea but i forgot, i wanted to give you an original scenario :(

i’m doing good! thank you for checking in! i hope you’re doing well ♡♡♡

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭 x 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — oh, the spaces of your skin i have yet to explore; the scarlet speedster has a problem with keeping his hands to himself

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 773

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, mentions of prior and future smut, cocky!Wally, honorifics (angel, baby)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — look at me go! i'm writing more! i'm so sorry that this was late, nonnie, but i do hope you enjoy it!

i don't have a tag list but i do have a library where all of my works live, @galatially-wrote so please check it out!

as always, lovely dividers by @firefly-graphics

Wallace Rudolph West was a tactile learner — his words, not yours.

Physicality made up most of, if not, all of his power set so it made sense that he was prone to manipulating things with his hands to be able to understand its components. He was a man of science, after all, like Barry Allen before him.

His favorite subject to study was you.

He often conducted what he called, “live trials”, when you’d come to visit him in Central City. He knew that your cheeks grew warm when he displayed affection in public. He knew that your breathing slowed when one of his large hands curved around your hips to bring you close. He knew that you were touch-starved and couldn’t place why.

The first time he kissed you — on the very corner of your mouth, barely that — he could feel the heat from your body grow. Your heart rate kicked up and small beads of sweat shone on your face. You were so nervous it made him smile. It was then he decided to elicit that reaction from you every chance he could.

His innocent girl, his angel.

Any time you were around him — in public and in private — you had to all but fight off the meta-human to keep your decency.

Tonight was movie night at Titans Tower and certainly no different.

His hands migrated from your shoulders to the small of your back before finally curving around your hips, kneading the soft flesh in slow torturous motions as you were talking to Kori and Donna by the couch. He was such a tease and he knew it, whispering the filthiest things in your ear.

“Don’t you ever give her space to breathe, Speedy?” Raven remarked from the far end of the couch.

“Leave ‘em be, you guys,” Dick smirked at you, “they haven’t seen each other in, what, six hours? They miss each other.”

Donna snorted. “More like Wally can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Your stomach dropped. Though you knew that they were joking, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were being rude. Or rather, your boyfriend was.

“Wally,” you warned.

“Yes?” You could feel the stretch of a smile against the curve of your ear.

“We’re with our friends right now,” you said slowly, “you don’t have to be with me the whole time.”

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?” he purred. “What I could do if we were alone?”

Your face warmed. “Shut up.”

“Get a room!” Gar said, groaning. “This is supposed to be a family event.”

You muttered out a small apology and threw your boyfriend a hard glare.

Wally wrapped his arms around your middle and guided you back against his chest, his fingertips ghosting against the soft skin of your neck to toy with the chain of your necklace. “Angel, you wound me.”

“And you’re too touchy.”

He chuckled lowly. “Am I? I thought I was just appreciating the beauty that is you.” He felt your thighs shift closer together and smiled to himself. “We can leave early if you want. You know I love how vocal you are.”

“You’re not being fair,” you croaked. Your eyes darted towards your friends; they were still too engrossed in the movie. At least you hoped they were.

“C’mon.” His lips pressed up against the nape of your neck. “You remember a few nights ago? I was afraid you were gonna flip yourself into the wall how bad you were thrashing.”

Your cheeks burned. The phantom feel of his ginger locks threaded through your fingers caressed your skin as did the heat of his mouth against your mound sent electricity rippling along your skin. You could feel the beads of sweat forming above the curve of your upper lip.

“You thinkin’ about it, angel?” His hands skimmed the sides of your thighs, pushing up the hem of your dress. “Thinkin’ about how good my hands feel on your hips when we’re at home? How good I feel?”

Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“D’you want my hands, baby? Want me to make it better?”

You looked towards your friends to see that everything had stilled. The glow of the TV screen illuminated their faces but their forms were frozen. Only you and Wally were mobile.

He really was a little shit.

“We can do whatever we want now,” he nipped at the skin below your ear, “they won’t even know.”

You leaned back into his chest, a breathy sigh leaving your lips. “Wally, we can’t.”

You felt his chest reverberate with a chuckle.

“Watch me.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 —cocky!wally is something i never knew i needed and he really jumps from the page, no? i've also never written for an innocent!reader before so i hope i did the trope justice!

#ask me anything ♡♡♡#message received 💌#order received 📦#hey nonnie 👋🏽#hands to yourself #wally west #black!reader #wally west ask #wally west x black!reader #the flash #the flash x black!reader #innocent!black!reader #wally west x innocent!black!reader #the flash x innocent!black!reader #the flash ask

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